Sabotage
by ArcaFeretory
Summary: In which Jemma might break a few things to get Skye to visit. Sadly, she's not one for spontaneity and... well, maybe her plan doesn't work out like she thought. - AU. Hello Skimmons fandom.


**Let me just quietly leave this here.**

* * *

Sitting somewhere near the middle of the street, with two whitewashed stories, a tidy wooden patio on brick foundations and that stereotypical picket fence back with close-cropped hedge, was a house Skye was beginning to think she knew like the back of her hand. Her van squealed just a little bit as she pulled up in front of the building. She scooped up her tool belt and clipboard off the passenger seat as she heaved the handle of the door and kicked it open.

Her job was monotonous, sometimes (frequently) involved interactions with creepy guys or unsanitary dorm rooms and it didn't pay a great deal. Enough for her to get by, sure, but there weren't exactly all that many reasons for her to keep doing it. She could work for any software firm in the city if she wanted too (and her best pal had been bugging her about quitting for months now).

But there was one perk to it. One very excitable and oftentimes anxious perk.

Skye pressed the doorbell twice (a paranoid habit) and shuffled her feet on the shiny wooden decking. She rocked back on her heels, not quite able to keep the coffee buzzing through her system from leaking out in the form of fidgeting. Fortunately, the door was pulled inwards and she felt a smile immediately stretch across her face.

"Good afternoon," said her delightfully British perk in her bubbly way. "Come in." She stepped aside to let Skye in, beaming her own broad grin. "I hope I'm your last job this late on a Friday," Jemma babbled. "I'm really sorry."

Skye waved away her apology, heading for the living room she knew so well. "Nah, it's fine, doc. You at least are alright company and have manners, you know? Not some grubby frat boy who likes to get a little too close." She pulled a face to go with that.

Jemma laughed a little but it sounded forced. "Yes. I'm sure that's not a great deal of fun."

"So what did you do to it this time?" Skye asked, motioning at the television.

"I don't know, actually," she replied, a single line creasing her brow as she chewed her lip in thought. "The stereo won't pick up any stations and the telly doesn't turn on."

"Doctor," Skye grouched good naturedly as she wiggled up against the television stand to fiddle with the cables. "You have got to be the biggest abuser of technology I know. I haven't got a clue how you do it."

"Oh," Jemma chortled again, still sounding a bit strained. "I guess I'm just… a glitch in the Matrix."

Skye couldn't help but chuckle along. "At least you're a glitch with a sense of humour. My boss is just a big old, buzz-killing, fun-sponge. He's a glitch in the most traditional sense of the word. In fact," she wheezed, reaching for a cord just a little too far away for her arms to get at, "If he knew how much I enjoy popping by to deal with your goods, he'd probably send me to another zone."

Finally the plug clipped in place and Skye straightened, tucking hair behind her ear as she turned to glance at Jemma. The good doctor was a little flushed and Skye could only smile, knowing (for some unfathomable reason) she was the cause of it. She enjoyed that too.

"At least it pays you, right?" Jemma whispered, trying a smile again.

"There is that," Skye agreed. "Lemme just see if that fixed it." She flicked the on button for the television on the remote but nothing happened. Just a stubborn black screen. She frowned. "Huh."

"What's wrong?" Jemma enquired.

"You're coming up with some dastardly problems here, doc," Skye muttered, tapping the remote on her palm. "What's the stereo doing?"

Jemma lifted a finger to indicate the offending appliance. "It's the same. The remote doesn't work on it either."

To test this theory, Skye lifted the remote and pressed the control for the stereo. Sure as eggs is eggs, the remote had no effect. All she could do was blink at it in a very confused fashion. "But that should've fixed it," she grumbled quietly, turning back to look at the feed into the television. "What's your modem doing?"

"My…?" Jemma asked slowly. "My what?"

Skye couldn't help but smile at her confusion. "You know that little box with a blue line that plugs into your router?"

Jemma's blank expression told her everything she needed to know.

"Don't you have any computer science friends?" Skye laughed. "Where's your office?"

She pointed to a door leading off the living room. "I do have a very technologically minded friend," Jemma huffed, leading Skye to her study room. "He's an engineer."

Skye lifted an eyebrow. "And you didn't think maybe he could fix this stuff for free? Rather than calling a paid service, you know."

Once more, Jemma's face tinted pink. "I'm sure he has better things to do with his time than fix my…" she seemed to think a little harder about what word she wanted than was strictly necessary. And when she did finally spit out a word, it had an awful lot of emphasis placed on it, "_Goods_."

She laughed, plonking into Jemma's wheelie chair to inspect the cable modem. The connections at this end were just as perfectly aligned as the ones on the television. So that left Skye stumped.

She sighed, standing. "Doc. I'm baffled."

"You can call me Jemma, you know," the doctor blurted. "Rather than… the other."

Skye was smiling again. "I am here often enough that you should probably just put my number in your phone and call me whenever it's convenient." _Smooth_. "Rather than… going through the service. I'd even do you for free." She couldn't resist adding the last with a wink.

The colour in Jemma's face seared away from 'adorably pink' and into 'dangerously red' territory. "That's… Hm." Jemma looked anywhere but at Skye. "So… what do you look at next?"

"Well… what else is broken?" she questioned, stepping back into the living room. "Does the internet connection on your phone still work?"

"Oh, yes. That's fine."

"Weird."

"What is?"

"Well," Skye exhaled. "If the router is still projecting a wireless signal, that means it's connected just fine. Which means that the problem isn't your internet, it's the devices using it. Can you get online with your laptop?"

"Um… I haven't tried since yesterday morning."

"Do you want to boot it up for me?"

"Uh… of course. Yes."

Jemma scurried into another room, the kitchen, Skye thought, based on what she knew of the house. While she waited, she collapsed onto the unfairly comfortable sofa and stared at the flat black of the television. She bounced the remote against her knee as she thought… contemplating the possibility that the television wasn't working just to irritate her. Unsolved mysteries were horrible.

She was jerked from her reverie by Jemma perching delicately beside her on the cushions, laptop in hand. It whirred to life quietly, the screen flashing its little welcome message before Jemma typed in her password with unexpectedly quick fingers and the desktop appeared. Obviously unsure of what she was supposed to do next, Jemma carefully transferred the machine to Skye's lap.

"Just… uh…" Jemma murmured, scratching absently behind her ear.

"Don't worry," Skye chuckled. "I won't go digging through your hard drive. Your porn is safe."

"I don't… That's not…" Jemma floundered.

"Relax," Skye told her gently, still grinning. "I'm only joking. About the porn. I won't go rummaging around in your laptop, though. That's your stuff."

"Well… thank you."

Just as it should, clicking on the little icon brought up a window with the usual Google search bar. Skye shook her head. "I don't get it, Jem. This is…"

"Bewildering?" Jemma provided.

"Yeah, that." She turned her head slightly, sighing. "What _have_ you done?"

Jemma offered her a quiet smile. "Did you just call me 'Jem'?"

"Well, yeah. You did tell me to use your name, right?"

The woman hummed, no other response given. Skye passed the laptop back and returned to fiddling with the remote. It didn't make a lick of sense. Not at all.

Heaving herself off the ridiculous chair (seriously, furniture should not be that heavenly) she ran her fingers along the sockets in the back of the television, praying for inspiration. Perhaps the plug or socket was out of shape? Perhaps the parts weren't aligned right? Maybe there was a loose wire near the neck of the cord. All viable options.

All wrong.

She slumped backwards onto her heels, collapsing against the side of the sofa. "I think," Skye began, tilting her head back to look at Jemma, still seated on the couch. "I think you're just really bad with technology."

Jemma huffed again. Somehow, it was alright when she did it. Probably because she's British and adorable. Nobody _else_ Skye knew pouted as cutely as Jemma Simmons.

"So… my knight in shining armour has failed me," Jemma lamented. "Guess I'll have to throw the lot of it out."

Skye whirled the remote through her fingers, frowning at the idea. "That sounds expensive," she mumbled. The remote spun badly then, spiralling out of her hand to hit the floor, the back cover flying off as it hit the cabinets supporting the television. "Shit, sorry."

Not bothering to stand properly, Skye sort of… _bounced_ across the floor to snatch up the remote. And then she stood, frowning at the device, a bemused smile dancing to life. Jemma launched herself from the couch and took two steps towards her, invading her personal bubble. But, alas (for the doctor at least) it was much too late.

"The remote has no batteries in it," Skye deadpanned, eyes cutting up just in time to see Jemma's sheepish expression. "I feel like I've been punked." She wandered over to the television and pressed the power button in the bottom corner of the border and sure as sunrise, sound echoed out of the speakers right before a picture bloomed on the screen. She lifted an eyebrow in askance.

Jemma rolled her lip under, not quite able to meet Skye's gaze. "I… might've sabotaged… some things. Or had my engineer friend do it for me, actually. Technology is really quite beyond my understanding of things. I much prefer biology to…"

She trailed off when she finally met Skye's eyes. "Why?" she asked the doctor, not really able to hide the laughter bubbling in the back of her throat.

"Because," Jemma mused with a shrug, fiddling with the hem of her coat. "Because I enjoy your visits."

Of course, then Skye really _couldn't_ contain her laughter. Jemma looked insulted (who wouldn't), so she hastened over to grasp her elbow reassuringly. "No… that's funny. Come on. Not all my customers enjoy my company enough to _deliberately_ break things so they can see me. That's sweet. Although you could've just asked for my number. Would've been way less awkward."

"Oh, shut it," Jemma sighed. "Maybe you'd like to try and ask a pretty girl for her number without it sounding weird. Especially when the only time you speak to her is when she's fixing the internet connection. It's not as simple as it sounds. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's daunting. I just–"

"Jemma," Skye murmured, cutting her off. "This is my last job for the day. Would you like to have dinner with me?" She thought about that a moment and then added, "After I've had a shower and changed into something that isn't this _God_-awful uniform."

Jemma blinked. "I… yes. Really?"

Skye grinned. "You're my favourite customer. Plus you're not so bad yourself." Another wink brought that lovely flush back into Jemma's cheeks.

"You," the doctor began in what she probably hoped sounded like a scolding tone. "Are incorrigible."

"And yet," Skye laughed, backing towards the exit. "You still broke your television once every other week just to see me. I feel pretty special."

Jemma (bless her) tried so very hard to glare, but it just didn't work. She did stalk after a retreating Skye until she got to the door. Still, when they finally got there, the frown faded.

"Where will I meet you?" Jemma asked, suddenly sounding a little panicked.

"I'll pick you up. I _do_ know your address, remember."

Jemma's brain turned that over a few times before she nodded decisively. "Be here at six?"

"Deal."

"See you then."

Skye flashed her a parting grin before bounding down the stairs and up into her van. In the rear view mirror she saw Jemma standing on the front porch watching her drive away. This was going to be a good weekend.

* * *

**I did not mean to write this. I swear. Another fandom is not what I signed up for. Oh well.**


End file.
